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The place where burgers were born
A batch of burgers being assembled (no ketchup) at Louis’ Lunch. (Jon Mael for The Boston Globe)
photos by Jon Mael for The Boston Globe
The burgers at Louis’ are cooked in upright gas broilers (far left) and asking for ketchup is frowned upon.
By Jon Mael
Globe correspondent

NEW HAVEN — If you’re like me, there’s been a time when you’ve seen a destination on the Travel Channel or Food Network and thought, “There’s no way it’s actually like that.’’ Even the least cynical among us assumes employees are hamming it up for the cameras and loyal, hyperbolic customers must’ve been invited for the filming.

I can tell you that Louis’ Lunch, America’s first burger joint, is actually “like that.’’ Within 10 minutes of walking in I witnessed a customer receive brutal flack for her order (20 cheeseburgers to go), started sweating from the heat coming off of legendary cooking apparatuses, and made friends with regulars who’d been getting their burger fix for decades. There’s nothing to hide here, it’s pure authenticity and no frills.

I’m a lifelong burger fanatic. It’s what I order when I eat out, and it’s what I cook when I’m entertaining people. Last year, I even wrote a series in the Globe’s Food section profiling great burgers in the area. Louis’ Lunch is to burger aficionados what Fenway Park is to baseball fans. It sits at the top of the bucket list. Open since 1895, the restaurant produced the first hamburger sandwich in 1900, when founder Louis Lassen served a customer in a rush. The story goes that the gentleman didn’t have time to wait for Louis’ popular steak and potato entrée, so Lassen ground up his cuts of beef, formed a patty, cooked it, and slid it between two slices of toast. And that’s how the most classic of American dishes was born.

And very little has changed since that day.

The menu at Louis’ is delightfully brief. The only toppings offered for a burger are cheese (in the form of a spread, not slices), tomato, and onion. The only available sides are potato salad and chips. If you ask for other toppings, expect to be ridiculed loudly, or worse. “You come in wishing someone would ask for ketchup just so you can see what happens,’’ says Anthony Malafronte, a Tampa resident who grew up in Woodbridge, Conn., and makes sure to stop at Louis’ whenever he’s in town. “Sometimes the whole room goes silent.’’

The burgers are still cooked, nine at a time, in 1898 upright gas broilers — big cast iron appliances that sit atop the counter in the cramped space and give off some serious heat. Nowhere else in America can you get a patty cooked this way, and the meat is ground fresh every day. I was sweating profusely at my counter seat in short order. Don’t think about asking for buns, because the burgers predate those. They also predate sliced bread, but Louis’ has caved and no longer slices its own, though it is toasted in a 1929 toaster – a new appliance by their standards.

Louis’ was named the tastiest place in America to chow down by the Travel Channel. I was hopeful when the sandwich hit my plate, and it didn’t disappoint.

The meat has such a pure, undisturbed taste. It’s just beef cooked at a very high temperature with salt and pepper, and nothing else. I ordered “the works,’’ an ironically named burger with just onion, tomato, and cheese spread. After the first bite, I looked up at Paul DeNegre, the lone cook and a 23-year Louis’ veteran and said, “Can you get started on the second one?’’ He smirked as if he knew something I didn’t.

If the burgers are the top draw, the restaurant itself is a worthy co-star. Thousands of initials are carved into the wood surrounding the kitchen, reminders of the generations of customers who’ve trekked to the tiny spot. I sat at the counter for more than two hours chatting with employees and regulars. Everyone has a great story about Louis’ they’d like to share. Aside from changing locations within New Haven in 1917, and again in 1975 (when the dining room was added), the restaurant has stayed the same. Even the old wooden ice boxes behind the counter have been converted to refrigerators. Louis’ has managed to thrive for more than a century, selling 150-500 pounds of burgers every day.

“We stick to one thing,’’ says DeNegre, while checking on a new batch of nine burgers, “we do it the same way, and we do it right, and the experience is what people really come for.’’

LOUIS’ LUNCH 261-263 Crown St., New Haven, (203) 562-5507, www.louislunch.com.

Jon Mael can be reached at jmael2014@gmail.com.